


Transit & Transition 1: London, Gatwick

by CoffeeWithConsequences



Series: Transit & Transition [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Airports, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, manspreading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 10:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/pseuds/CoffeeWithConsequences
Summary: Transit & Transition Series #1: a newly minted RAF Lieutenant, Eames meets a mystery woman in the airport and finds a way to pass some time.





	Transit & Transition 1: London, Gatwick

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the first in a new series I'm working on, Transit & Transition. These short stories will be non-chronological, and will all take place in travel settings, mostly airports and hotels. They'll be thematically linked, but each should function as a stand-alone piece. Most of the stories will feature either Arthur, Eames, or both, but the other Inception characters may show up down the line as well.

**2001: London, Gatwick**

Sliding into his seat, Eames looked sidelong at the woman by the window. She was a few years older, maybe, with dark hair and long legs. She wore a short skirt, hiked up on her thigh where her legs crossed. She was wearing earbuds and didn’t even glance his way. Apparently the uniform didn’t work on everybody. Still, it was a long flight--she couldn’t keep them in the entire time. Eames leaned back and started to get comfortable.

It took about three minutes before he saw her pull out one of her earbuds. Brilliant. They weren’t even off the ground yet. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice clipped, her accent American. “You’re crowding me.” She gestured down to where his knee rested against the back of the seat in front of her, forcing her crossed legs against the sloped wall. 

“Sorry, love,” he said, moving his knee only a centimeter. “Not a lot of space in here, is there?” He turned his smile on her and puffed his chest out a bit so she’d be sure to notice his new Flight Lieutenant stripes.

“There isn’t. And you’re in mine.” She didn’t return his smile, nor did she look impressed. 

He raised his hands in mock surrender and moved his knee for real. 

She didn’t acknowledge the gesture, just stuck her earbud back in and looked away again.

Five minutes later, the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. There was a problem with the landing gear. They’d all need to deboard and wait until a new aircraft could be prepared. As groans broke out around them, the woman leaned forward and pulled her bag from under the seat, stuffing the earbuds inside. She didn’t say anything as she waited for him to move into the aisle, but made no attempt to look patient.

Their short delay turned into one hour, and then two, with the gate agent intermittently announcing that it would be “a few minutes longer.” Restless, Eames walked down a few gates turned around, walked back. He wasn’t hungry, he’d already nearly finished the paperback novel he’d bought at the newsstand. There was nothing to do. Even the people-watching was boring. 

She was leaning up against the wall beside the Family Bathroom sign. When he looked at her, she was already staring at him. She wasn’t smiling. He held her gaze and she inclined her head marginally toward the door. The gesture was subtle enough that he could have been imagining it. He wasn’t.

“I’m Eames,” he began, as the heavy door clicked shut behind them.

“I don’t care,” she said, reaching for him. 

He made no further attempt at introduction as she wound her arms around his neck, just picked her up and sat her down on the wide sink. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he crowded into her, meeting her mouth. She tasted like coffee and orange Tic Tacs, and she kissed hard and brutal, her teeth against his bottom lip. 

“Do you have a condom?” she pulled away and asked into his mouth, her hands at his fly. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, pulling one hand from where he was pawing gracelessly at her tits and reaching for his wallet. “Do you want…?”

She caught his mouth again. “Yes, fuck, yes.” She pushed his trousers down under his ass, pulling his boxers after them, and wrapped one hand around his prick. She pulled one leg from around his waist and, to his great delight, put her foot next to her on the apron of the sink. Her skirt pushed up around her waist as she spread her legs, revealing pale, silky panties.

Fumbling the condom from his wallet, he laid the packet down next to her on the sink and reached between her legs. Running one finger over her panties, he found her already wet. He swore softly, pushing his finger under the damp fabric and over her hot, smooth skin. She pushed her hips toward his hand and made a low noise. 

He thought of kneeling, of licking her wetness, of tearing through her silky pants with his teeth. Her hand was insistent on his cock, though, already pulling him toward her. 

He kissed her again as he ripped the condom from the package, then buried his face against her neck as he rolled it on. “Hard,” she whispered as he lined up and pushed the scrap of wet fabric aside. “Now.” 

He took instruction, pushing into her in one hard stroke, moaning as she wrapped her leg around him again, digging her heel into his bare ass. He fucked her hard, and she pushed back against him, dropping one hand from around his neck to steady herself against the sink. It had been longer than he’d like to admit since he’d gotten off in any company at all, and longer even since the company had been female. He pulled out a bit and wrapped one hand around the base of his cock for a moment, forcing himself under control. 

“No,” she said, pushing back toward him, her body searching for his. 

“I don’t want to come before you’re ready,” he said.

She laughed and pushed his hand away, using her legs to pull him back into her. “So don’t come.” 

He reached between them, finding her clit with his thumb and forefinger as he started to pound into her again. It was difficult to hold on to his rhythm, stroking her and fucking into her, harsh and sloppy. “Yes,” she breathed near his ear, “yes, like that.” So he kept to it, frantically thinking of things to hold off his climax: over-steeped tea, his father’s nose hair, the Queen’s underwear. 

She tightened around him and pulled her legs back up, spreading herself wide open on the sink, letting him just a touch farther inside. Her other hand fell as well, holding tight to the white porcelain. She tipped her head back, arched her back. She didn’t scream, but he felt her climax just as clearly as if she had, her body shuddering under him. It pushed him over. “Fuck,” he groaned, riding out his orgasm, thrusting arrhythmically. “Jesus bloody buggering fuck!”

When the plane finally took off, her earbuds were back in place, her legs firmly uncrossed, guarding the space in front of her seat. He smirked, but she wasn’t looking. He fell asleep waiting for her to acknowledge him. When they landed, he tried again, politely introducing himself and asking if he could see her again. 

For the first time, she smiled. It was gone nearly as quickly as it appeared. “This wasn’t a date, Lieutenant.” He watched her body as she pulled her carry-on from overhead compartment, already feeling as if the few minutes they spent in the loo had been his imagination. By the time he had a retort on his tongue, she was already walking down the narrow aisle. By the time he got to baggage claim, she was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me on [Tumblr](https://coffeewithconsequences.tumblr.com/) or read the rest of my fic here at [Archive of Our Own](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/works)!


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